


Something Borrowed

by alovething



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Future, No Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-28
Updated: 2005-04-28
Packaged: 2018-12-26 23:03:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12068760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alovething/pseuds/alovething
Summary: A teenage Gus borrows one of Brian's prized possessions.





	Something Borrowed

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

**AN:** _This is a collaboration with Camlaw._

* * *

Brian was furious.

He didn’t know what drugs he had been on when he told Gus he could borrow his car. Must have been some really strong shit. He barely even let _Justin_ drive his car. Justin didn’t need to drive his car anyway. He had that ugly boxy SUV thing that Brian wouldn’t even walk by, let alone ride in.

Brian was never irresponsible when he was seventeen.

All right, not _this_ irresponsible.

He pulled up to the gas pump and leaned against the car, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache that was threatening to appear. He was already running late, and he still had to stop at the carwash to get his car detailed. 

It was only when he grabbed the pump to replace it back in its holder that he realized he was still smoking a cigarette, dangerously close to large amounts of gasoline.

“If I blow up, it’s all Gus’ fault,” he mumbled to himself as he stubbed out the cigarette. As he slid back into the driver’s seat, he silently vowed that Gus would never again drive his vehicle.

There were food wrappers everywhere. Oh god, were those _crumbs_? How much food could a group of teenage boys eat in one night? He shook his head.

Stupid question.

The gearshift was sticky, coated in god knows what. There was a wad of gum in the ashtray. Gum! He didn’t even put _ashes_ in the ashtray. There were stains on the upholstery, and a very mysterious odor lingering in the stale air inside the car.

What the fuck had that boy done last night?

While he sat in the lobby of the carwash, he felt bored. He added that to the list of things to kill Gus for. He decided to make a few phone calls. First, he called Cynthia. He told her to make sure the fuck up twins started the presentation to a potential client. He hoped he’d be there to complete the meeting. Then he called Michael and canceled lunch plans. There was no way he’d have time now. It was all Gus’ fault.

He waited as long as possible to make his last call.

Lindsay’s chipper, sweet little voice did nothing to calm his temper.

“Is your son at home, by chance?” Lindsay sensed his anger. She was good at that. Thus, she answered him cautiously. __

_“No Brian, he is not here. He is out with some friends.”_

“Will you kindly inform him that I would very much like to have a word with him?” Brian requested through gritted teeth and very obvious self-restraint. Lindsay promised to deliver the message and quickly ended the call before Brian chose to unleash his wrath on her instead.

Brian tried very hard to get his temper under control on his way over to Kinnetik. He didn’t want to be angry in front of the new clients. That isn’t very good for business.

He made a dazzling impression on his clients, of course. He was almost in a good mood when he collected his messages and coffee from Cynthia. He gave her a smile and as soon as he walked into his office, he came face to face with Gus, the object of his fury.

“Hey dad,” the teenager said coolly. Brian glared at his offspring as he made his way over to his desk and sat down. Gus opened his mouth again, oblivious to his father’s anger. “I was wondering if I could borrow your car again tonight. We all want to go check out this new band that’s playing at The Basement.”

Brian felt his jaw twitch as he stared at his son in complete awe. How could he be so completely clueless?

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Brian asked, as calmly as he could when he was incredibly pissed off. That wasn’t very calm at all.

Gus took a step backwards, startled by his father’s response. “What do you mean dad?”

Brian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose again. It was a long while before he would finally look up at his son.

“I _mean_ , no gas in the gas tank. I mean, food wrappers everywhere. Gum in the ashtray. And that _smell._ That’s what I mean.”

“Um,” Gus looked away momentarily. “Sorry?”

“Call your father,” Brian said with a huff. “Ask him if you can use his car.”

“Dad,” Gus looked confused. “ _You_ are my father.”

“Not when I’m pissed off at you I’m not. That’s when you’re Justin’s.” Gus rolled his eyes and crossed his arm’s over his tall, lean frame. He flicked his shaggy chestnut hair out of his face and sighed.

“Can you call him for me?”

“For the love of-“ Brian hit the speakerphone button on the phone and quickly dialed the number for Justin’s cell phone. __

_“Hey.”_

“Oh sweetie pie, honey dear,” Brian answered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. __

_“Oh shit. What’s wrong?”_

“Our son is being a pain in my ass. And not a good kind.” __

_“What did he do?”_ Justin asked calmly. His partner was pissed. He had to tread lightly.

“He borrowed my car last night and thrashed it. Now he’s here asking to borrow it again. I told him to ask you if he could borrow yours.”

“Can I, Dad?” Gus pouted. __

_“Uh oh. Gus fucked up the cockmobile? Well, I’d let him use mine but I have to take all my paintings to that gallery tonight. I need my car.”_ Justin replied, his voice crackling through the speaker.

“Shit,” Gus muttered. __

_“I need to go. I’ll see you tonight, Brian. Bye Gus. Love you guys.”_

“Love you too,” Brian replied. 

“Love ya, Dad. Later,” Gus added. There was a click on the other end and Brian hung up the phone. Brian looked up at Gus, who shoved his hands on his pockets and rocked back on the balls of his feet. “So…that’s a definite no then?”

Brian resisted the urge to slam his head against the desk. Gus gave him a version of the Kinney smirk. Brian was fuming.

“Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Office.” Brian gave him a tight-lipped smile and waved him out.

“Fine,” Gus replied. He turned and started to walk out the door. He was almost out of the door when he heard his father yell again.

“And Gus? Next time buy your own fucking condoms instead of stealing mine.”


End file.
